


With You I Will Go

by black0eternity



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Sith Anakin Skywalker, Sith Obi-Wan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 06:01:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8478055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/black0eternity/pseuds/black0eternity
Summary: Unbeknownst to the Jedi, the Sith have returned. In their quest to conquer the galaxy they have begun training force sensitive children to be their ultimate weapons. Little do they know that among their ranks rests a power that could destroy everything the Sith stand for or all the Jedi hold dear.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Blame Leon, because this is for him.

“What about mom?” The young boy turned back and gazed up at the man who had just given him what he had thought would be the best news of his life. “Is she free too? You’re coming aren’t you mom?” Of course she was, the Jedi were supposed to help the people of the galaxy, and she was one of the best people in it. If anyone deserved freedom, it was her.

A cold finger slipped down his spine as the Jedi spoke the dreaded words, “I tried to free your mother, Annie, but Watto wouldn’t have it.” He was so calm and unconcerned as he did his best to rip Anakin’s world down.

Desperate he looked between them, “But the money from selling…”

“It’s not nearly enough.” Qui-Gon cut him off, dashing his hopes in one swift motion.

Anakin felt as though it had been him who had crashed during the race, and not Sebulba. He couldn’t hear what his mother said as she tried to soothe his ragged nerves. Her calm, peaceful voice had gotten him through many nights, but this time, it had no such effect.

If he left now, he would never see her again, that much he was absolutely sure of. He couldn’t let that happen. No matter how much he wanted to become a Jedi, he couldn’t leave her. Watto was better than Gardulla, but the only reason Watto had kept them both was his ability to build things and tinker. Without that, Watto would sell her. There was no way to know what would become of her when that happened. What if her new master was cruel? What if they hurt her?

No, he couldn’t leave her to that fate.

“You can't stop change any more than you can stop the suns from setting.” She reached out and touched his cheek. “Listen to your feelings; Annie, you know what's right.”

Anakin closed his eyes, he allowed the words to sink in. His emotions told him one thing. His mother had told him to follow them. A single thought repeated over and over again. ‘Listen to your feelings,’ Replayed along with it. So that is what he did.

Anakin ran.

He sprinted past the hovels sunk low in the sand. Their familiar dusty coloration only served to further enrage him. Past the very same people who had been cheering him on earlier, their faces were little more than blurs through the tears in his eyes. They didn’t know what was happening. The vendors were still peddling their wares as if his world wasn’t crumbling down around him.

The scorched air burned his throat. Sand filled his mouth. Each breath was agony, but he couldn’t stop. No, he wouldn’t stop. The domed roofs of Mos Espa were growing distant with every step. By the time his tired legs gave out, they were little more than specks on the horizon.

He half expected to see the Jedi chasing him, but there was no one there.

At last, tears rolled down his cheeks. Now what was he supposed to do? He wanted to lash out at Qui-Gon for failing him, at Watto for not letting them both go. Then Qui-Gon again for not trying harder. As a Jedi, he could have easily taken down the Toydarian. He could have done so much more, instead, Qui-Gon was going to let who knew what happen to her. For a compassionate Jedi, he didn’t seem to give a single care for an innocent being.

His mother deserved safety too.

A low humming caught his attention. A black sphere hovered just a few feet away, it examined him, then zoomed off. The winds howled across the dunes, blowing more sand into his face. It clung to the tear tracks and rubbed his face raw.

All he wanted was some quiet. Yet, it was stolen in one fell swoop as the hum of a speeder approached. The rider dismounted and began approaching him from behind.

“I told you, I won't leave her, so go away! I don't want to talk to you!” Anakin yelled.

The new arrival's footsteps were unhurried, and even. A thought occurred to Anakin. Where would Qui-Gon have gotten a speeder? The Jedi wouldn't have stolen it, would he?

“The Jedi have failed you, young one.” The cold, voice was a balm to his anger. “He deceived you, and now will be the end of the one you hold dear.  I can offer you and your mother freedom, and I can help you destroy the people who enslaved you.”

Anakin tilted his head up to look into the speaker's eyes. His skin was red and black, that much he could see, despite the hood that covered his face. In the shadows, he could see spikes protruding from his head. A Zabrak.

“You mean… vengeance?” Anakin asked.

Vengeance. There were so many people he desired to punish for their wrongdoing. Jedi couldn’t do it. No, they wouldn’t do it. They saw the corruption in the galaxy and just let it happen.

“What do I have to do?” Anakin scowled.

Satisfaction settled on the Zabrak’s face. “Come with me, I will take you to a place where you can learn the skills you will need.” He held out a black gloved hand.

Anakin took a step back, “Promise me that you will free my mother from slavery.” He demanded and stomped his foot in the loose sand. It sent the foul granules flying in the wind. “I won’t leave without her.”

The Zabrak folded his arms. “I swear that I will free your mother,” he inclined his head.

At that, the boy turned to head back to Mos Espa. He would show the Jedi how it was done. He would make sure that this man kept his word.

A powerful hand clamped down on his shoulder.

“The Jedi is still with her,” the Zabrak reminded him. “I will return for her once he departs.” There was something in his golden eyes that kept Anakin rooted in place.

“Why?”

“The Jedi are my sworn enemies, should I go, it would put her life in danger.” The words summoned a blade of fear that cut through Anakin’s anger.

Anakin scrambled towards the speeder, “Then let’s go!”

The speeder was an FC-20, but heavily modified. All the non-essential features had been stripped away. He swung his leg over the seat and stretched his feet out, but was too short to reach the rests. Moments later, the man took his place behind the boy and sped far away from the only home that Anakin had ever known.

The ship came into view on top of a cliff face. Anakin recognized it as a Star Courier, and like the speeder, it was heavily modified to fit the Zabrak’s needs. When the speeder came to a stop, the man assisted him off the bike.

He had to trot after the man up the ramp, into the ship. With every step, his legs screamed. After his flight, he was ready to collapse, but he refused to show that kind of weakness to the man who was offering him so much. Some power kept him upright, and he would continue to rely on it until he collapsed.

He looked up at the man, “What is your name?”

“Darth Maul,” the man opened the door to the cockpit, then put his hand on the back of a seat. “Wait here, I have business to take care of before we depart.”

Eager to please the man, Anakin flopped into the chair and nodded. A pleased voice in the back of his mind praised him. It filled him, virtually wiping away his exhaustion. Everything was still sore, but he felt ready for whatever was waiting for him at the end of this journey.

Then, Darth Maul left.

It was quite a while, but Anakin didn’t mind. He finally had the quiet that he had desired. As thought more about his choice, the more he realized he’d made the right decision. He was impatient to leave, but he knew that Darth Maul would keep his word. He just knew it.

While he was waiting, Anakin made it his goal to rid himself of as much sand as he could. By the time the doors hissed opened once again, he’d amassed a small pile.

Without a word, Darth Maul retracted the ramp and landing gear. Within moments the two were airborne, and leaving the desert world. In just a few minutes it had vanished entirely.

“Where are we going?” Anakin asked as he watched the stars all around them. He felt strange without the sight of his sandy homeworld below him.

“A school of sorts. There you will learn the skills needed to seek your revenge.” He pressed several buttons on the panel in front of him. “Once you have arrived I will return to Tatooine for your mother, as promised.”

Panic clenched his throat as an important fact returned to his mind. Did Darth Maul even know? “She has a bio-implant. If you try to take her she'll—”

“It will be no issue.” The Zabrak easily dismissed his fears with a wave of his hand. There was rage in his eyes that had not been there before. Something had happened during his time away, and Anakin was unsure of how to ask. So, instead, he remained silent.

Anakin studied every feature he possibly could on the craft while he could. Though many things had been changed, it wasn’t long before he understood what he was looking at. His fingers itched to take the controls, but he remained with his hands in his fiddling around a carving he had started.

Beneath him the craft slowed, and he spied their destination.

His mouth fell open as he watched the surface of the planet roil and squirm as though it was a great monster. Great bursts of fire exploded into the air and rained down as solid rock. This place was… alive.

Among the geysers of lava, he spotted a structure. It seemed like it was used for mining, but how anyone could mine in a liquid, he didn’t know.

With the ease of a practiced pilot, Darth Maul set the ship down on one of the platforms that protruded from the lava below. Every movement was purposeful and calculated. Not a single movement was wasted. It was as though the craft was just an extension of the Zabrak, instead of just a tool.

Landing was seamless, the only proof that they had stopped moving was the presence of the platform outside the bridge. Heat whipped inside as the door to the ramp opened. It was worse than the unforgiving suns of Tatooine. But, instead of turning away, Anakin embraced it. He savored the scorching feeling on his face and felt his hair blow back.

He stepped out onto the platform and soaked in the dark sky, and glowing ground. Foreign, though it was, he accepted it as his new home. It was just another step along the path he had chosen for himself.

No one would have expected that he would be the one to free all the slaves. Not just on Tatooine, but in the whole galaxy.

Maul swept ahead, his black robes billowing in the constant heated updraft, swept up by the lava below. He looked like a huge bird, raising its wings to fly away. He did not hesitate as he made his way through the facility, he knew each turn, and never looked back to see if Anakin was following him.

The young boy struggled to keep up, but offered no complaints. Determination had filled him to the brim. It burned through his sore muscles and kept him moving.

After what felt like forever, they reached a room that rose high above the lava fields. Inside was a serious looking individual whose face was hidden mostly by a hood. Anakin couldn’t determine whether they were male or female. Darth Maul turned and gave him a look. Unconsciously he fell back a step, and the door shut in front of his face.

Anakin sucked in a deep breath and suppressed a shiver. All around him was the humming of various systems. A cold breeze swept by him. The occasional cool breath of air had been rare back home. Here, it was frigid, he could see his skin starting to turn purple.

Anakin was starting to grow accustomed to the chill when the door opened once again.

“You will stay here, and learn.” Darth Maul spoke, then he gave one last look to Anakin. “They will instruct you in the ways of the Force.” Then, he swept down the hall, robbing the boy of his chance to respond.


	2. The Academy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It didn't take me several decades to finally update. I don't know what you're talking about. So, I am honestly really eager to get to chapters... 3+ so I hope that this one is good.

Under the unseen gaze of the cloaked being, Anakin felt exposed. He felt as though he was on the auction block. Though he’d been an infant the first, and only time, he was sold, he was sure that this was what it felt like. The lump in his throat prevented him from speaking as the being appraised him.

The soft humming of machinery was the only sound. It was unsettling. Like space, this place was quiet. He had never been anywhere that wasn’t loud. Home had the constant howling of the wind, voices in the streets, his mom…

“I can see why he chose to bring you here,” the cloaked figure spoke at last.

“Darth Maul said you could teach me how to get revenge.” Anakin held himself up to his full height and pulled his shoulders back.

A hissing laugh escaped the cloaked beings. “My instructors will teach you a great number of things. If it is revenge you desire, they will provide you the tools.”

“I want to learn,” Anakin insisted.” “I want to learn _now.”_

“Tch,” the being leaned forward and pressed long fingertips together. “You may possess a natural affinity, but you have much to catch up on. The other students will crush you like the insect you are.” The cruelty behind the hiss made Anakin shiver.

“Then I will work twice as hard,” he declared.”

“Do not think you will be receiving special treatment due to your circumstances.” They tilted their cloaked head forward. “You may have been brought here under extraordinary circumstances, but here, you are nothing. You have no training, no experience, and no… skills to speak of.” Their sibilant tone betrayed their loathing.

It was a statement that Anakin shared. It took all his control not to snarl something back.

“Here you will be known as a code. None of our initiates have names. They have not earned them. From this day forward you will be known as…” the being paused to consider. “TR-162.”

“When do we earn names?” Anakin hated the idea of leaving his identity behind… but if he had to.

“When you leave this world.” The being answered. “You will be taken to the sleeping quarters of the other initiates,” they changed the subject dismissively. “Then your lessons will begin.”

 

There were no introductions. Fourteen other initiates were laying in their bunks when the instructor brought Anakin into the quarters. Each one of them stared at him as though he was something unwelcome in their world. In truth, he was sure that he wasn’t welcome. No warmth radiated from their expressions. The worst glared at him, while others simply rolled their eyes and turned away.

“This will be your bunk,” The instructor stopped beside one of the empty cubbies. “Clothing will be provided. You will wake with the others, eat with them, and learn with them. You will not question your teachers. Step out of line, and you will learn to rue your mistake.” With that clipped declaration they stalked out.

Even without the teacher present, the other students said nothing.

Anakin looked between all the faces. There was a great variety, though he easily spotted four humans among the mix. Or, five. Though he was not sure about one of them. One looked as though she could be human, though he sensed that she might not have been.

He hefted himself up into his bunk and laid back. His mind was racing too fast to fall asleep. Regardless, he tried to will himself to get some rest.

He had a lot to learn, and if he was exhausted then he wouldn’t be at the top of his game.

 

_‘My name is Anakin Skywalker, my name is Anakin Skywalker,’_ the words repeated themselves again and again in his mind. A week had passed, and they could not take that away from him. No matter what they did, no one could take away his identity. _‘My name is Anakin Skywalker, and pretty soon, I’m going to be getting out of here.’_

“TR-162,” the lifeless voice cut through Anakin’s voice. “If the lesson is so uninteresting as to have lost your attention then you could perhaps inform me and the other initiates what in your mind is more important.”

Anakin grit his teeth. His eyes darted to the students in front of him.

RR-173 was watching him with narrowed eyes. One of her green lekku twitched.

To his left, there was OP-198 whose blue lips were pulled into a sneer. No doubt the Pantoran was just waiting for Anakin to be punished. His yellow eyes were hard. Each one of the initiates had that look. Even MQ-479, who stared down at her hands beside him.

“TR-162!” The instructor snapped.

“I was paying attention.” Anakin ensured his voice was confident, but not smug.

The instructor narrowed his bulbous red eyes.” Then perhaps you could repeat the Code.” He pulled his lipless mouth into a snarl.

Anakin rose to his feet. As if he hadn’t already memorized the Code in his first day on this hellish planet. He squared his shoulders and recited:

_“Peace is a lie, there is only passion._

_Through passion, I gain strength._

_Through strength, I gain power._

_Through power, I gain victory._

_Through victory, my chains are broken._

_The Force shall free me.”_

Once finished, Anakin returned to his seat and did everything he could to keep his expression from turning into a smug look of triumph. On the inside, he was bursting with pride, a fact that the Nautolan GJ-726 would be able to sense.

Placated, their instructor continued, “and who was the author of the Sith Code?” the aging Duros asked.

“Sorzus Syn,” the calm voice of SL-806 came from somewhere behind him. He didn’t need to turn around to see her red face tilted upward just a little bit, a clear display of her perceived superiority. He also did not need to see how her amber eyes shot to his back. No, he could feel her gaze on him.

Anakin spent the rest of the lecture attempting to appear attentive. That was a tall order for the former slave. He was too restless to sit for extended periods of time. Idleness had been beaten out of him long ago.

He gripped the edge of his seat and fought the urge to leap to his feet. His free hand fiddled with the edge of his tunic. He was itching for a piece of metal or a scrap of wire. Anakin craved the act of creation.

Part of him wondered if Maul would bring the protocol droid he’d spent so long building along with his mother. After all, he’d built C-3PO for his mother. If it was possible, he knew his mother would insist on bringing the droid along.

After what felt like a lifetime the initiates were dismissed. The instructor strode out without as much as a backward glance.

Anakin rose and cut a glare at OP-198.

The Pantoran’s back was to him, but only for a moment. In a flash, he whipped around and stood only a few centimeters from Anakin. His yellow eyes were burning. “Do you have something to say TR-162?” he snarled. This was the first words any of the initiates had bothered to speak to him. It was almost fitting that it would be someone trying to pick a fight.

The boy had an easy fifteen centimeters on Anakin, but he knew that height wasn’t everything. The Dug, Sebulba, hadn’t been much more than 1 meter tall, but he could have turned the 2-meter tall Jar Jar into goo.

Refusing to be intimidated, Anakin closed even more of the gap. “Do _you_ have a problem OP-198?” He wouldn’t show an ounce of fear, he refused to be scared.

“You think you’re something special.” The Pantoran scoffed. It wasn’t a question.

Anakin puffed out his chest. “I know I am,” he boasted. “Darth Maul brought me here himself.” Not to mention that a Jedi Knight had told him that he had the reflexes of a Jedi, not that he would mention that to anyone here. Jedi were not exactly held in high regard. Not that he could blame the way the initiates felt. Even a few short days ago he would have insisted that Jedi were the greatest beings in all the galaxy. After they had failed him… he wasn’t sure they were any better than the Hutts themselves.

“I was chosen by agents in my infancy,” OP-198 tossed his white hair. “They could sense my power as a baby, you are just some rubbish the Sith found by chance. If you were really worth anything, you would have been brought much sooner.”

Rage exploded inside Anakin, but there was no room to throw himself at the Pantoran. Before he could headbutt the idiot, the now familiar voice of SL-806 cut through the air. “You are both weak,” she announced. She ran a hand down one of her grey striped lekku. “You fight with words, which are meaningless.” Her amber glare cut them both down to size. “Neither one of you will ever be chosen to leave this place.” With that, she glided out of the room with undeniable grace.

Anakin and OP-198 stayed locked in place. Neither wanted to be the first to back down. After some time, it was the Pantoran who stepped away.

“Tch,” OP-198 lifted his lip in a snarl. “You aren’t worth my time.” He spun on his heel and stalked out of the room.

After he was gone, Anakin made a rude gesture at the other initiate. OP-198 had no direction. He had no goal and that just made him jealous. Anakin was going to get vengeance. Not just against the Hutts, but every slaver in the entire galaxy.

Then, he would go after the Jedi.

After all, Qui-Gon himself had said that Jedi were mortal too.

As he walked towards the sparring arena the words the self-described Headmaster rang through his mind. _‘Do not think you will be receiving special treatment due to your circumstances.’_

Anakin gave a stiff nod. If that was what it took, then he would let the being think it was that easy to erase his identity. This wasn’t his first owner. If he could survive Gardulla, he would survive his time here.

When he stepped onto the training platform, he started to size up his opponents. He glanced between VX-011 and CN-615, both girls paid him no heed. The former was of a species he didn’t recognize. Her grey eyes were distant. She was tall and lithe. She was stretching in ways he didn’t think was possible.

The latter was easier to identify. She was Cathar. Her utter disinterest wafted off of her in waves. As he watched CN-615 bared her fangs at OP-198.

At least that was something they had in common.

Anakin sat and joined RR-176, MQ-479, and NO-179 in their floor stretches. RR-176, a male twi’lek with purple skin, eyed him but did not say anything. NO-179, a human male with blonde hair, made a face like he smelled something bad, stood, then stalked over to OP-198.

MQ-479, a Mirialan female, looked at Anakin with wide eyes. “What is your name?”

Everything in Anakin wanted to answer with his actual name, everything, except a small part that whispered, ‘ _no_.’ it was the same voice that had guided him in the past. In the moment’s pause, he could feel a dozen pairs of eyes hone in on him. “TR-162,” he answered at last.

It was like a long-held breath was released. Around him, the other initiates who had been listening in returned to their stretches.

MQ-479 pressed her full lips into a line. “That’s not what I meant.” She got to her feet. The ends of her head wrap fluttered in the persistent hot billows of air, kicked up by the lava.

Anakin scowled at her. “I know it wasn’t.”

That did not make things better. She stormed away in a huff.

“You can’t win with that one,” RR-176 said.

Anakin glanced over at him.

“She has a record,” he explained. “The instructors always have an eye on her. She probably wanted to trip you up so that they would focus on you instead.”

His frown deepened. “Why would she do that?”

“She knows if she keeps this up, she will be due for a conditioning.” RR-176 cut his gaze towards the subject of the conversation.

“Conditioning?” Anakin pressed. Though, she had a feeling he knew the answer. It sounded… self-explanatory.

RR-176 looked back to Anakin. “It means you stay in line or someone is going to rat you out.” There was a hardness in his green eyes. One that was different than the usual emptiness. It was like a promise.

Anakin stood up. “No one is going to rat me out,” he declared _. ‘There won’t be anything to get me in trouble.’_ He was there by choice. He didn't have time to get “conditioned.” He had to master everything these teachers had to offer so he could begin his revenge.

There was a sharp sound that brought the collective to attention. Anakin turned to face the Saber Instructor. He did not know the woman’s name. Her grey-tinted skin glowed in the orange light of the lava. Her black hair was tied back into a high ponytail. She had a wide flat nose, and her nostrils flared just a bit as she observed them. “Your places,” she snapped in a voice that broached no argument.

All the initiates fell in line. Anakin took a spot beside SL-806 who was at the end of the line closest to Anakin.

The instructor gave no indication she cared where he went. “We will begin with sequences.” She clicked her heels together. A heartbeat later 15 training sabers flared to life. “Attack one,” she barked.

Anakin watched SL-806 out of the corner of his eye. He mimicked her every move as best as he could. With each change of sequence, he did his best to memorize the name and associate it with the feel of each. It was smooth and natural. Up, down, twist, turn, it was like a dance, one he fell into without much effort.

“NO-179,” the instructor barked.

Everyone fell still and turned to look at the human initiate. He seemed to fold in on himself under the scrutiny of the instructor.

“Your form is pathetic,” she held her head up as she looked down at him. “Even TR-162 outdoes you, and he knows nothing.” The lava’s light made her eyes even more terrifying.

Though it was an insult, Anakin still felt a flash of pride at the declaration.

“You will spend additional hours in remediation.” She turned her attention to Anakin, “today you will spar with me TR-162.”

Another boost of pride hit him when SL-806 shot him a glare. The spark of jealousy in her eyes was worth it, even though he knew that the instructor would not hold back. He refused to back down. Ever.

“Split into pairs,” she ordered.

Anakin stepped over to the instructor’s side as the other initiates paired off. He gazed up at her lithe, but distinctly muscular figure. She reminded him of a whip. Unassuming at first glance, but deadly when in action.

“You have years to make up for,” she spoke in a tone so cold it almost chilled him, despite the constant burning heat. “We begin now.”

Several brutal hours later Anakin sank down onto the bench across from RR-176. “She does not hold back,” he grumbled as he rubbed his aching arm.

“None of the instructors do.” RR-176 shrugged. “Why would they? If they want us to be the best, they would not coddle us. We are here only to learn skills so that we may gain power.”

Anakin nodded and absorbed every word. “SL-806 mentioned leaving this place,” he took a bite of his food. It was only then that he realized just how hungry he was. Without any restraint, he started to stuff his face.

RR-176 grinned wide. “The best of us are sometimes chosen to leave this hell hole. Dignitaries or some other important beings come and select us as bodyguards, and assassins need apprentices. The hand-select the best of the best. Then, those selected are taken off-world and never have to come back. There was this Arkanian, AM-871, who was chosen by this senator—I think he was from the InterGalactic Banking Clan. Then there was this Chagrian girl, CL-853, who was taken by an assassin, we never saw their face, but you could just tell.”

“How do you know that they weren’t being taken away to be killed?” Anakin frowned.

An aura of rage surrounded RR-176. “Why would they?” he snapped. “It would be stupid. They spend a decade or more teaching us only to kill us? If we die it’s entirely our own fault.”

From everything he could tell, he was still property. “Is there ever a way we could fulfill our own goals?” Anakin wanted to get started on his vengeance as soon as he could, but not only that, how would his mother fit into all of this? He wasn’t even sure where she would go once she arrived here.

The twi’lek shrugged. “I guess someday, it depends on where you get assigned if you’re not chosen.” He thought about it for a few moments. “If one of the assassins chooses you as long as you have no active targets, you could do what you wanted.”

Determination filled his chest. Anakin knew what his goal was. No matter what it took, he was going to become an assassin. If impressing one was all it took, then that would be simple. His mom would understand, she would want him to fulfill his dreams. The galaxy would be a better place without slavery, and she knew that.

Though it had only been a few days, he missed her so much, more than anything. He had never been apart from her for so long. He had always been able to turn to her for anything.

“What do you want?” Anakin asked at last.

The question clearly perplexed RR-176. When he tilted his head his purple lekku flopped to the side. “What I want?”

“Yeah,” Anakin pressed.

“I want what everyone here wants, to be the strongest.” The way the twi’lek said it made it seem like it should have been obvious. From what Anakin had learned and seen so far… maybe it should have been.

Ani pushed himself up from the table. Of course, RR-176 wouldn’t understand. He, like the other initiates, had only ever lived here. He only knew what the instructors had taught him. He didn’t even know his own name. In a way, Anakin pitied him. RR-176 would never be more than someone’s tool.

That was one of the differences between them. Anakin would never be anyone’s tool ever again.

After evening meditation Anakin laid back in his bunk. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the other initiates.

Their breathing as just as quiet as his own. They were all trying to catch someone doing something wrong. One toe out of line and you would be reported to the instructors, who in turn handed you over for… conditioning.

From where he lay, Anakin could see Initiate MQ-479 laying stiff in her bunk. Her eyes were closed, but her posture would not relax.

Something was going on in her head. She… wasn’t like the others, he decided. No one else had asked him his name… more than half of them hadn’t even spoken to him. He was fine with that, but it struck him that she was different.

She did not want to be here. She must not have been a baby when she was brought, like OP-198. Did she remember her life before this place?

As much as he wanted to know, he knew that if he tried prying, one or both of them would get… conditioned. The idea was still completely revolting to him. He didn’t _need_ to be conditioned, or reconditioned, or whatever they wanted to call it.

Every muscle in his body ached, and the strikes the saber instructor gave him throbbed. The pain kept him awake, even as the others started to drift off.

Anakin stared at the top of his cubby. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find his way to sleep. One by one the other initiates breathing slowed and became even. He quickly realized he was the only, if not the only, one still awake.

Then there was a shuffling sound.

He opened his eyes and watched MQ-479 making her way over to him as quietly as she could. She got up on her tiptoes and rested her arms on his bed.

“You remember your name.” She gazed at him with longing eyes. “You have to tell me what it is. No one remembers theirs…” her gaze flickered downward. “No one else except me. They were all too young.”

So his theory had been right. He felt clever for having parsed it together. “I’m not going to tell you.” He stood by that decision. It would blow up right in his face. He’d only been there a short time. Showing that he was going to cause trouble would lead to nothing good. The first on the list would be re-education.

“What if I told you mine?” she probed. “Would you then?”

Anakin shook his head.

“Mozea Otiga,” she said before he could even try to stop her.

He put his arms over his eyes. “I’m not going to tell you,” he insisted. “It isn’t something I can do. They said we don’t get names yet.” As much as he wanted to, he knew better. He wasn’t sure why she didn’t know it was a horrible idea. Maybe she was desperate. When he looked into her eyes, he knew he was right. Desperate was an understatement.

“You have to,” Mozea Otiga begged.

Anakin shook his head, “go to bed.”

The distress in her expression almost broke him, but he refused to let it happen. No one would break him. That was something he’d decided a long time ago.

Mozea Otiga cast one backward glance before she climbed into bed. She curled up on her side, facing away from him, then fell asleep.

Anakin envied her. He was still awake, though it was impossible to tell how long it had been. Through the windows, there was a persistent orange glow that only changed as the lava flowed. Watching the patterns of light called his mind.

It was only when he finally fell asleep that he regretted wishing for it so hard.

Nightmares assaulted him. His mother. She was suffering. Dying. Her pain was his. Her horror bled into his veins. Her fear left him paralyzed. The screams were caught in his throat. The flash of red was the last thing that he saw.

Anakin shot up in his bed. Ragged breaths tore at his dry and chafing throat. The room was practically empty. Only a few initiates were still readying for the morning. He groaned as he climbed down to the ground. Everything hurt. It felt as though he hadn’t even gotten a wink of sleep

Exhaustion reigned, but he did his best to push past it.

Sore from the saber instructor’s intensive lesson, it took Anakin longer than usual to get prepared for the day. Many of the other initiates were engaged in the morning meditation in another room. It wasn’t until MQ-479 stepped in too close.

“Don’t tell anyone,” her eyes were wide. “You can’t.”

Anakin furrowed his eyebrows. “You can’t tell me what to do.” The challenge annoyed him. “I didn’t ask you to tell me your name.” He tied his belt tight.

She clutched his arm tight. Her nails bit into his skin. “You can’t,” she insisted. “They will take away what makes me, _me.”_ The sheer panic was enough to make his stomach twist. “They’ll do the same to you too.”

He jerked free from her. “They won’t,” he growled. “I _want_ to be here. I want to learn what they can teach me.”

For a moment he could see Mozea Otiga, the Mirialan girl, not MQ-479, dark side initiate. Her eyes scanned his face, then they went cold and hard, and the girl was gone. “You will regret standing against me,” she declared.

“I'm not,” Anakin scowled. “I’m just not standing against them.”

Mq-479 made a rude gesture, then stormed out.

Anakin sneered, then headed over to the meditation area. He joined the others in the circle and tried to sink into a state of mind where he could reach a connection with the Force. He was more than aware of MQ-479 glaring at him from her spot on the other side of the ring.

He did his best to ignore her and calm his mind.

The door slid open with a quiet hiss. Two cloaked figures stood in the opening. “MQ-479,” one of their booming voices filled the entire room.

The girl jolted. She looked ready to bolt at any second. When she jumped to her feet and made a break for the sleeping quarters, the robed beings responded by lifting one of their hands.

In a split second, she was lifted off the ground and thrown backward. MQ-479 flew across the air. She landed squarely in the beings outstretched hands. She fought hard, but it was clear they had an ironclad grip. He didn’t have to watch to know that it was futile. She let out one last desperate scream before the door slid shut, cutting the cry short.

Rattled, Anakin looked at the other initiates to gauge their reactions. None of them so much as batted an eye. In fact, they all looked placid. He could count the number of them who had even bothered to open their eyes and disrupt their meditation on one hand.

His gaze landed on SL-806. The Togruta was watching him. In that moment he knew that she had something to do with this. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he was absolutely sure that he was right. After all, they were supposed to rat each other out.

Anakin sank into meditation, searching for a connection to the Force once again. He wanted to find answers. Was there more to this nightmare? There wasn’t enough time. By the time he was starting to sink into that sense of knowing the others started to get up. His focus was shaken. Instead of starting over, he joined the others who were getting food.

RR-176 eyed him as he joined Anakin at a table. “You know why she got taken.” It wasn’t a question.

“She told me her name last night.” Anakin figured it would be better than lying.

The shock on his face spoke volumes.

“I didn’t tell anyone,” Anakin confessed. “I didn’t have time to even try.” He glanced towards SL-806. Now she actively wasn’t looking at him. That only confirmed his suspicions.

“Her name?” RR-176 breathed.

Anakin nodded, “she kept trying to get me to tell her mine.”

“And did you?” RR-176 stiffened.

“Of course not,” Anakin snapped, offended by the implication that he could be that stupid. He shoved away his empty tray. “I’m not an idiot.”

The fourteen remaining initiates made their way to the Force Instructor’s building. The old, wizened Zabrak glared at the students. There was nothing but pure hatred and resentment. He was hunched and weak. Or, that was how he looked to Anakin. When he tried to sense him, Anakin could tell there was more power in the elderly being than met the eye.

“We begin with telekinesis.” The Zabrak’s voice was grating, but Anakin had to respect his strength.

Each one of the initiates took a spot behind a piece of metal.

Anakin examined the piece of metal. He was curious as to where it had come from. What had it been used for? What could he use it for? Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the other initiates lifting their burdens with no issue.

He screwed up his face and honed in his attention on the hunk of metal before him. He wanted it to rise. He willed it with all his being. Anakin ground his teeth and glared at the metal.

Why wouldn’t the damn thing move?

Tendrils of power slithered through him, responding to his anger. Pride flashed through him as the object of his anger sailed across the room and slammed into the wall. Then, with just a thought, he brought it back and made it hover in front of his outstretched hand.

The door to the room slid open.

MQ-479 stepped through. Her green skin was wan and drawn. Gone was the little bit of a spark in her eye. She almost looked like a different person. Even the way she held herself was wrong. She said nothing as she stalked over to the one empty position and began the exercise. She must have felt him watching. The glare she shot Anakin almost caught him off-guard.

Almost.

Hostility was nothing new to him, so he gave a snarl back. As he did he curled his hand into a fist. The high keening of straining metal was followed by a resounding crunch.

She lifted her lip up in disgust and looked away.

Anakin rolled his eyes and dropped the chunk of bent metal. He hadn’t _asked_ her to tell him what her name was. This was all her fault. Before he could lash out there was a ripple. It was like a little nudge against his brain. He could sense someone coming. Someone familiar.

Without a word, he tore out of the room and through the halls. He knew which landing platform to go to, he just knew.

For the first time in what felt like ages, he felt hope. He was excited. He was practically skipping as he bounded onto the landing pad. He’d made it before the ramp had fully extended. Exhilaration coursed through him as he watched the red-skinned Zabrak descend to the platform.

“Darth Maul!” He hurried up to the Sith.

Maul barely gave him more than a cursory glance.

“Where is my mom?” Anakin stood on his tiptoes to get a glimpse inside of the ship. “You brought her, right?” His heart was beating fast. There was something wrong. Something was very wrong. His instincts were screaming those words over and over again.

Darth Maul looked down at the boy with disinterest. “I did not bring her.”

Rage flooded Anakin like lava erupting from the surface of the planet. “Why not?!” He demanded. He stamped a foot on the landing pad.

“I did not tell you that I would bring her to this place.” The Zabrak dismissed. He sidestepped as Anakin threw himself forward with pure anger flashing in his eyes. In a smooth move, he tripped the boy and gazed down as his small form slammed into the hard, hot metal.

The heat coming up from the lava scorched his skin. Anakin pulled his face from the grate and forced himself to his hands and knees.

Rage consumed him as he locked eyes with the red-skinned Zabrak. The facial tattoos almost made him look like he was smiling, but no emotion touched the Sith Lord’s face. Those golden eyes pierced into him, more deeply than Anakin believed his lightsaber could.

His ribs ached from the impact on the metal, and his ears still rung.

“You lied!” Anakin roared over the eruptions around him.

With a wave of his hand, Darth Maul lifted the boy from the landing platform. In only a few steps he closed the distance. “I kept my promise. Your mother is free.”

Anakin writhed and struggled against the grip holding him in place half a meter above the ground. “You killed her!”

“Yes,” Maul showed no sign of regret. “And now she is free of both the bonds of slavery, as well as her mortal bonds. She will suffer no more.”

Fury tore a scream from Anakin’s throat. Red descended in his vision. He threw himself against the power holding him and flailed his fists at the Sith Lord. Maul had to pay, to suffer for deceiving him. Anakin would destroy him, and make Maul suffer even more than he was.

Again, with just a flick of his fingers, Maul had him pinned to the ground. The pressure and hot air forced the breath from his lungs.

“You don’t have the strength to beat me, youngling. You are weak.” Maul had barely even batted an eyelid. “Try again when you are older and have power.” His dark robes swept behind him as he made his way up the ramp into his ship.

Tears burned in his eyes but were evaporated by the heat of the lava below. The weight did not leave him. Each breath was a struggle. Helplessness, anger, betrayal, rage, weakness, inadequacy, shame, revulsion, and isolation. They all surged through him, even after the ship was gone, which released him from Maul’s hold. The inferno below him seared his skin, and his soul until only a few of the emotions remained. As it had on Tatooine a single word sang to him. It called out in his mind, over and over, until it became his sole focus. His one purpose for continuing after the loss he felt.

Vengeance.


	3. And So it Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, I'm a fickle beast, this wasn't going to happen for a few chapters. So the chapter you were going to get is now going to be a standalone, Anakin's adventures at that Sith Academy will be its own thing because it's ultimately not the main story I'm trying to tell. So buckle up. This is the shit I've been wanting to post for a year.

The sleek ship entered the atmosphere, it immediately caught Anakin’s attention. There were only a few things that it could mean. A new student, a transport for a teacher who was needed elsewhere, or a dignitary who was touring the facility.

Upon occasion beings who called themselves part of the Separatist Alliance came. They poked and prodded at the initiates, often they spoke in other languages that Anakin hadn’t understood. Not at first, language was one of the non-combat skills that they were instructed in. Regardless, he’d had his fill of cowardly Neimoidians demanding to have any number of the initiates as personal bodyguards.

Another was the history of the Sith, and the corruption of the Galactic Senate, as well as all of their failures. Of how one day they would be stripped of their power, and end the cruel rule of the Jedi.

They had no attachments, and therefore could care nothing for the galaxy outside their temple.

In the harsh, unforgiving conditions of the planet, you had to become strong or die. After a life on a desert planet, Anakin was accustomed to the heat. It was welcoming and mirrored the fire that he had burning inside of him. At least on Mustafar, there was no sand. If he went his whole life without seeing another grain, it would be too soon.

For all his life he’d had to suffer with the grit in every fold of his clothing. No matter how hard his mother tied off his shoes, it always snuck in. The coarse, grating sensation was constant. Every morning he woke with sand in his pillow, and in his sheets. Since the moment he had left the planet he’d been doing his best to rid himself of it. Now, weeks later, for the first time in his life, it was gone. It was freeing. Movement was no longer rough, he wondered if this is how C-3PO felt now.

He hated that he had to leave his droid behind, but he hated even more that he couldn’t see his mother. Darth Maul would keep his word. His mother would be freed, and provided the life that she deserved. C-3PO would be able to take care of her.

With every part he moved in his latest project, he reviewed the Sith Code in his head. Though he knew that he would not be able to become a true Sith, no matter how hard he tried. There were laws, there could never be more than two Sith, Regardless, the words resonated with him on a level that nothing else ever had.

“ _Peace is a lie, there is only passion._

_Through passion, I gain strength._

_Through strength, I gain power._

_Through power, I gain victory._

_Through victory, my chains are broken._

_The Force shall free me.”_

It was true. He had broken his chains and was now freed through the power that had been offered to him. His eyes drifted over the forms of the other students of the academy. He’d gotten to know them over the past three years. All the time that the others spent not talking to him, he spent tinkering and learning their weaknesses.

Showing them up was one of the few things that made the instructors proud.

Their faces were austere and strict. There was no forgiveness, no room for error, and no allowance for failure. If you failed their tests, then it meant you probably didn’t survive. The teachers mimicked the planet that the academy was placed on. The empty beds were a reminder of the cost of inadequacy. Anakin had sworn to never be inadequate. Not again.

After the first month, he’d lost track of the days. Their day was far longer than it had been on Tatooine. All he knew was that it had been close to three years.

No assassins had yet come to seek apprentices so, he hadn’t shown off the the toadie Neimoidians. It had earned him nasty hits from the others, He could always tell when SL-806 knew he wasn’t doing his hardest. The look of disgust on her red-skinned face and hatred in her amber eyes was enough.

Those weak fools wouldn’t be able to give him what he wanted: Revenge.

Darth Maul never returned after his final departure. He had never made a promise to, but Anakin had expected him to come witness his progress. To test him, and in that test Anakin knew he’d make the ultimate mistake. He’d find a way to kill the Sith Lord. Every day he was getting stronger, and he knew that one day he would be able to crush his foes. The first thing he would do was hunt down Maul. Then all the slavers in the galaxy and make them pay for what they had done.

He would take care Hutts last. They would know that he was coming, and no matter where they tried to hide, he could use his new skills to hunt down every last one of them.

No one else had the same fire burning inside of them. Not that he knew of.

That was why he was going to be the best.

He didn’t see their visitor himself until some time later. She was tall, pale skinned with piercing silver eyes that reflected the eruptions all around them. Her dark, sweeping skirt billowed in the heated drafts beneath the catwalk. Every move was calculated, measured, and purposeful. Immediately he knew that she was skilled, someone worthy of learning from. It took him a moment to recognize her species, Dathomirian. They had once been allies of the Sith, Darth Maul had been Dathomrian, thus he reasoned, she was worthy of being his teacher. Someone that could teach him to crush the Sith Lord.

The twin lightsabers she wore confirmed this suspicion.

In all their training, all they’d only been given practice lightsabers. The teachers knew better than to trust them with the real thing, force training, and blaster training already had their fair share of hazards. Emotions ran hotter than the lava beneath their feet.

Their lightsabers could not maim, or kill. They only administered harsh shocks, ones that let the student know that had it been a real fight, they would be dead.

When they arrived for their normal training, the sight they were greeted with was anything but usual. Their instructor was not alone on the platform. Present was their mysterious visitor. Her attention was on the lava that drifted over the surface of the planet.

All of the initiates were lined up before their teacher, as well as the visitor who only then gazed down upon them with disinterest. She held her head high as she scanned over each one of them. Those piercing eyes drifted over to their instructor.

Something wordless passed between them, almost as if she was giving permission.

Their instructor cast that cruel look down upon them, “Pair off.”

None of them needed an explanation. As a group the initiates divided themselves into duo and then silently awaited further instruction. Anakin’s eyes darted over to their Dathomirian guest. She was paying him no mind, which only served to anger him. He was the best out of all of them. She didn’t know that yet. But she soon would.

Perhaps it was cheating to be standing across from NO-179. He was weak. The weakest of them all. It had only been Anakin's mercy that he was still alive. Now it would be NO-179’s honor to let Anakin shine in front of this powerful woman.

Impatience roiled inside of him. He wanted to beat down his partner then and there to show that he could. That he would not hesitate and that he had more than earned his place, and more importantly, his revenge. He shifted his weight between his feet, familiarizing himself with the best angle to attack in. The floor was weaker beneath his left foot. He would have to push off with his right.

Anakin took his training lightsaber in his hand. The familiar weight was a comfort. With his weapon, he could do anything. Or so it felt. To be without his weapon, would have been strange.

His opponent was staring gormlessly up at their instructor. Their lightsaber still hung at their side. The lack of readiness was a slap in the face to Anakin. He couldn’t believe that anyone who had lived on Mustafar for any amount of time would make themselves such a target. This was the kind of moron who would have been pushed off a platform by a frustrated initiate, and not have even realized it until they hit the lava.

Anakin was almost angry with himself for not having done it before now.

Their instructor signaled for them to start.

Before NO-179 even had his lightsaber unclipped, Anakin was upon him. His blade flared to life in an instant. His first two blows would have been enough to kill the initiate if his weapon was real. The strikes were enough to stun him, if only for a few seconds. That was all Anakin needed. Satisfaction flooded through him with every yelp of pain.

Even after No-179 had properly armed themselves, he stood no chance. When their blades locked, Anakin pressed the full weight of his fury down upon him. He could feel the swell of the force inside him, it gave him strength and helped him drive the hapless initiate to the ground. Seeing his opponent helpless and easily overpowered only served to further enrage him. In an instant, he was overwhelmed by that all too familiar impotent rage and embarrassment in the back of his mind, as though it had all happened all over again. The betrayal still stung.

Instead of letting it overpower him, Anakin let it help guide his hand. He embraced his fury and reached out with the Force with a gesture, he lifted his foe from the ground, only to slam them back down. It was too easy to disarm them.

As Anakin used the Force to bring the lightsaber to his hand, No-179 found his way back to standing.

He tried to grab his weapon back, but his abilities were no match for Anakin’s. He ended NO-179’s attempts with a swing of his blades. In a matter of seconds, Anakin had him back on the ground, with the fizzling blades of the training sabers forming an x at the boy’s neck, and his foot planted on his chest. Each ragged breath made his leg rise just a fraction, only to be squashed back down by his weight.

“P-Puh-Please,” the pathetic worm begged. “I yield,” NO-179 croaked.

Anakin drove his heel down into their sternum. Disgust shone in his eyes. “There is no mercy.” With all of his strength Anakin slammed the blades into his foes head, and enjoyed the way he twitched as the shocks racked his body.

A hand touched Anakin’s shoulder.

The boy looked up and found himself face to face with their visitor. In her other hand, she held her lightsaber. She extended it out to him, as her lips twisted into a smirk. Without hesitation Anakin threw down his foe’s weapon and took the real lightsaber. He clipped his back where it belonged.

There was almost no difference between the real and the harmless. The handles on hers were different, and the balance was shifted, but it was just as heavy as he had expected. When it ignited in his hand, Anakin knew what to do.

Before another word could leave his pinned foe’s mouth, he drove the blade into NO-179 chest, just above the toes of his boot.

“I have made my decision.” The woman spoke, she pulled her lightsaber back to her hand with the Force. “I will take this one.” A smile spread across her lips as she glanced back down at the human boy.

The instruction merely nodded. “Initiate Skywalker, you are dismissed.”

Not wanting to disappoint, and knowing that retribution would be swift and harsh, he followed the Dathomirian visitor back inside the facility. The rush of cold on his face almost knocked the wind out of him. Even after three years, he wasn’t accustomed to the harsh temperature changes.

“We will be leaving this planet.” The woman spoke. “Everything you require will be provided later.”

Anakin nodded. He had nothing on the planet that he wanted to take anyway. The clothing wasn’t his, nothing was. That was nothing new, at all. As a slave he’d had little that he owned. All of that was gone. Though, the familiar presence at his hip reminded him that he did own one thing. It was the most important thing that had mattered.

She made no effort to take it from him, much to his relief. There was no doubt in his mind that she would have won. The respect shown to her by the instructor told him enough. They only respected power. Thus, she must have possessed a great amount.

It only served to prove him right. She was worthy of being the one who taught him how to achieve his revenge.

“What is your name?” The woman asked.

Anakin lifted his head proudly, “Anakin Skywalker,” he informed her. It felt so damn good to say it out loud! After years of only saying it in his head, it was like breath of fresh air One day, everyone in the galaxy would know it too, when he’d gained the power to bring his enemies to their knees.

“What planet are you from?”

Remembering his home sent a shot of rage through Anakin. He knew that she could feel it. The way her brow quirked spoke volumes. When he did answer, his voice was low, “Tatooine,” Anakin growled. “But I won’t go back until I’ve killed every last slaver.”

Again, he caught a glimmer of something in the woman’s eye. “I do not believe we will spend any time there. However, I cannot guarantee that. Regardless, you will follow me, and do as I say, is that understood?” She stopped head in her tracks.

Defiance flickered in Anakin. It sounded just like slavery. He jutted out his chin indignantly.

That made her stop, and look down at him from on high. “Is that understood?” She repeated, as power radiated off of her. “I can easily choose another to take your place as my student. I am certain they would be eager to erase you, and your chances, Skywalker.”

Anakin took a step forward, “I understand.”

A smile curled her lips, “Good.”

“Assassin Ventress,” A voice came from down the hall. Though they wore a cloak, Anakin knew it was one of the instructors. “The Count demands your presence.”

Ventress looked back down at Anakin, “Come.” Though she had not been told where to go, but nonetheless she was navigating the halls without hesitation. Anakin recognized it as the same location he’d come on the day he’d arrived. Instead of the shadowy figure, a tall, white-haired man sat behind the desk.

His figures were steepled, and his mouth set into a permanent frown. It was the kind that had never held a smile.  “Ventress,” His voice was deep and sent a chill down Anakin’s spine. “I have another assignment for you.” Then, his attention drifted down to Anakin. “Who is this, Ventress?”

“The student you instructed me to acquire.” Ventress gave a brief nod down to the young boy.

The contempt was masked, but Anakin could see it in his eyes. Those dead, empty eyes. Tension shot through Anakin. It was the same kind of look that slave owners gave their property. Seeing it again lit a fire inside of him, and reminded him of Darth Maul. A desire to wipe that look off his face took ahold of him.

Against his palm, he could feel the cold metal. How his lightsaber had gotten into his hand, he wasn’t sure. But it flared to life before he knew what he was doing.

That got the Count’s attention.

The old man rose to his feet. “Are you challenging me? Brave, but also very foolish.” Without even moving the training saber flew to the Count. He caught it with little effort.

Ventress’ eyes burned holes into the side of his head. Her rage prickled his skin, palpable in the tense air. A thousand needled of annoyance and disbelief.

Now in a new owner’s hand, the traitorous blade activated. So soon, Anakin found himself back in the helpless position that was so reviled. But there was only so much he could think of before he felt the sting of the training blade.

No matter where he moved, how hard he tried, he could not avoid all the stinging slaps. The pain was overwhelming. His jaw clenched, cutting off the stream the constant shocking had drawn forth.

His body locked up against his will, as the electricity coursed through his muscles. The floor rose up to meet him. Pain flared above the agony as his shoulder connected with the ground.

Gradually, he felt his body return under his control

He tilted his head up to look at the fierce elderly man who had so roundly defeated him.

“Tell me,” The Count demanded. “Why do you desire power?”

Anakin gritted his teeth. “To make Maul pay for what he did to me.”

At last, Ventress spoke, “This is a story I need to hear.”

 

###  _ Eight Years Later _

Anakin lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, idly flipping his lightsaber with one hand. In his mind he still held a picture of his mother, though no matter how hard he grasped, it was slowly slipping away. The tighter he held, the faster it escaped like sand in the wind. An involuntary shudder passed through him. Ten years tended to do that to a mind.

He didn’t know how long it would be until he until he could get his revenge. Of one thing he was certain: one day he was he was going to kill Darth Maul. Though he knew that the Sith was supposedly dead, he couldn’t believe it. He would find Maul, and use his death to prove to Ventress that he was indeed ready to serve his purpose for the dark side.

Absently, he activated the blade and watched the red illuminate the small room. The familiar hum filled the air.

He watched the blade smoothly retract with just a flick of his finger. The weapon had served him well over the past few years. The crystal had been a reward for his first solo mission success. He had crafted the hilt with his own two hands, a fact he was very proud of. His teacher indulged his love for tinkering.

Since his youth, he’d accomplished far more than restoring an old protocol droid. Between each mission he made it his goal to work on something new, or finish his latest project. Despite that, there were many half-finished projects that he had not had the chance to return to. There was always an ample supply of battle droids to take apart.

He always put them back together... eventually.

Anakin clipped his lightsaber to his belt and climbed out of bed. He tugged on his boots. The door opened as he approached, revealing the cold, featureless hallway beyond. Despite the lack of signage, he found his way back to the training hall. After eight years, he was more than familiar with where he was going.

As he expected, he arrived before his master. The routine had been established early, and ever since then, they met every day at the same time, unless there was a mission that they had been assigned.

Every time those piercing blue-grey eyes landed on him. It felt as though she was looking through him. As though she could see his every flaw and shortcoming.

It seemed that way, because he knew that she could.

After all these years his master knew his every shortcoming, and wasn’t afraid to let him be aware of that. It only pushed him to do better with every session. Control was something that he craved. That was the only thing that he felt he lacked. At every moment he was aware of the Force around him. It called and beckoned him. There was never a moment when he wasn’t aware of the sensation of power at his fingertips.

It truly felt as though he was capable of doing absolutely anything. As of yet, he hadn’t learned how.

That thought was stolen from him when the hall doors slid open and he found himself face to face with his master. Her ashy skin stood in stark contrast to her dark tunic and skirts. Even though she was shorter, she still managed to look down at him. With her chin tilted up she seemed to tower over him. Power radiated off of her, sharp, and distinct.

“Early, I see,” her voice was a low, sultry murmur. “Color me impressed. “There was a look of pride in her eyes.

Anakin’s lips quirked into a half smile. “I aim to please, master.”

Then, Asajj Ventress ignited her lightsabers and lunged straight for him.

In a lighting fast move Anakin flared his lightsaber to life. His blade caught hers as the formed an x in front of his face. The crackle of power made the small hairs on his arms stand up. With as much power as he could master, Anakin shoved back against his teacher.

She backflipped through the air and landed nimbly on both feet. She was ready for his strike. She had sensed it before he’d even started.

Anakin adjusted his weight and came back with another blow.

She blocked that one with barely a flick of her wrist. With another, her boot flicked up and caught him in the stomach.

The breath was knocked out of him. Anakin staggered back half a step and blocked the incoming lightsaber, then the other. He grit his teeth as he was pushed onto the defensive. His footwork was truly put to the test as Ventress forced him back.

“I thought you aimed to please, Skywalker,” Ventress’s soft purr was enough to light a fire inside him, and she knew it.

Anakin started to fight back. He felt himself slip into the easy rhythm he had built with his teacher. He’d learned all she had to offer over the past eight years, yet she always had the edge. It was like he was missing something. Like there was something more he needed to learn.

He understood how to be an assassin. But there was something more, something he knew he needed.

Lost in his thoughts he hadn’t seen the foot she lashed out once again. This time it hit his ribs. “Focus,” she hissed. “A real opponent won’t hesitate.” Another slash that he barely blocked. “You would be dead.”

Anakin’s brows furrowed as he scowled. He _understood._ He’d been that close to death more than once.

Ventress was relentless. Blow after blow, strike after strike, she wasn’t slowing. If anything she was getting stronger with every second, while his energy had slowly begun to flag.

All the air escaped his lungs as his back slammed into the wall. A ragged cough escaped him. The violence tore at the ender, rough flesh inside his throat. All over, he ached, the pain was all consuming. There wasn’t a place that his master hadn’t hit him. Something had made her more ferocious, relentless.

He felt it too: some kind of disturbance that he couldn’t quite identify. It made the small hairs on the back of his neck stand up. The force wanted him to know that something was going to happen. But it was something bigger than their sparring match.

Another blow to his side brought involuntary tears to his eyes.

“You have no focus,” Ventress lifted her chin and watched her young apprentice. Though it was not long, his master took a step back to allow a moment for Anakin to recover.

While he did get back up to his feet, it was not for long. In moments, he found himself on his back again. Curses escaped his lips as he started to lift himself off the training mats. He locked with vibrant grey-blue eyes that were blazing with anger.

“Remember why you seek this power,” Ventress hissed and pointed her lightsaber at his throat.

Anakin hadn’t forgotten. How could he? It had been the single worst day in his entire life. Never would he ever lose a single detail of what had happened. Even the mention of it made his body tense. Even now, he could still feel the fire in his lungs, the blaze on his skin, even over a decade later.

The emotions inside of Anakin exploded. A powerful wave of energy swept outwards, throwing Ventress off of him. He threw his legs into the air and use the momentum to find his footing. Instead of letting the feelings control him, Anakin reigned them in. They would guide him, instead of hinder. With anger came focus, clarity enough to stand on his own when his master began attacking again.

With practiced ease he began to recognize the patterns of her attacks. The Force guided his hand as he fought back. Each swing of her blade as met by his own. Slipping into the moment was simple. There was no time to think. Ventress was a devastating blur of red, black, and pale skin. Her twin blades cut through the air where his arm had been only a split second before, precise and deadly.

But Anakin knew all of her moves. For the better part of a decade, they had been all he'd seen.

When the opening came, Anakin took it.

His blade caught both of hers high. Half a breath later his boot shot out, and connected with her chest. Using the distraction, he dropped and swept her legs out from under her. Before she fell, Anakin balled the neck of her tunic in his fist. When they collided with the floor, he held his lightsaber at her neck.

Her chest rose and fell beneath him. Both drew in ragged breaths as sweat beaded on their skin.

That familiar wry smile came to her lips, “good.” She praised. Once his lightsaber retracted, Ventress used the force to push him back gently. “You must remember to focus, Anakin.” She rose gracefully to get feet, “when you do, you are unstoppable.”

“Thank you, Master.” Still reeling, Anakin settled into a comfortable sitting position. He took a deep breath in to center himself. “Do you ever regret picking me? The question slipped out before he could stop himself. It had barely finished forming as a coherent thought, when it burst out, unwelcome.

Ventress considered for a few, painful seconds. “Perhaps, for a few moments when you raised your blade against Count Dooku,” she couldn't fully mask her distaste when she spoke his name. “But your determination and drive for revenge convinced me otherwise. I can say now, that I made the correct decision.”

A broad smile spread over his face, “Thank you, Master.”

The pride in her eyes burned brighter than the planet’s sun. “You may have the rest of the day off, until our evening session. I have business to attend to.”

Another wave of warning washed over him. Something wasn't right, but he couldn't begin to identify it. The Force was warning him to be wary, but as hard as he tried, he couldn't be sure of what. He's always had a strong connection to the Force, but interpreting it… Ventress had not been able to teach him that as completely as he would have liked. He supposed that was because she was still learning as well.

Anakin thanked her again, then stood. Before he left the training hall, he clipped his lightsaber to his belt. He gave one final nod to his teacher, then returned to his chambers. The pale light of the planet’s sun had just began to creep over the distant hills. It's rays were just starting to chase away the early morning fog that clung to the world.

Anakin turned away from the transparisteel window and stepped into his refresher. He cleaned the sweat from his body and took stock of his mental state.

Though rattled by being forced to relive his humiliation, he was otherwise fine. The physical pain would fade. The quiet ache in his mind would always remain.

Ten years had done little to ease the sting of betrayal. The fact that the Zabrak’s face still haunted his nightmares didn't hit help time heal his wounds. No, the wounds of the past helped. They were one of the forces that had driven him to where he was, and would one day go.

Clean, and dressed in a fresh tunic, Anakin had already decided how he was going to spend the precious few hours that he had.

The hangar lay on the far end of the compound. Inside droids were milling around, tending to various ships, or just otherwise attempting to be useful. He has always hated the things. The B1 were utterly useless pieces of trash. Cheap and simple to mass produce, they didn't outmaneuver an opponent. They overwhelmed with their sheer numbers. He gave a disapproving look to one that stood too close to his personal fighter.

It was oblivious, as always.

Without a word he jumped into the open hatch and slipped out the open hangar doors. Within moments he'd escaped the atmosphere. From orbit he could see the sun gleaming down, and reflecting the Separatist cruiser that served as an additional line of defense. Their base wasn't of any particular strategic importance in the war, even though they had inhabited it for quite a while. At least a few months now, though he couldn't really be certain how long it had been.

Anakin took his ship through loops and spins. He danced among the stars and felt that glorious call of freedom. Up here, none of it existed.

He barely even touched the limits of what his ship was capable of when he stopped to marvel at the beauty of space. Staring up at the stars, distant systems, and far off nebulas erased all of his concerns…

Up until the moment that three Republic cruisers came out of hyperspace, narrowly missing his ship.

Anakin dove for his com. In seconds, the blue hologram of his master flickered to life. He threw his fighter away from the massive ship and cursed as the turrets started firing. “Master!” He twirled and spun away, towards the CIS frigate. “We have a problem!”

“Anakin, the droids touching your fighter is not a problem,” Her droll tone only heightened his anxiety.

It was but that was a discussion for another time. “I think three republic starships constitute a problem.” He snapped, harsher than he meant to as he dodged another round of shots.

That got her attention. Their connection dropped. Anakin had no time to wonder if it had been their foes or his master ending it. He had clones to shoot down. There was more. On the control cruiser, he could sense it. Two powers. One was leaving the hangar, and the other was located safely on the bridge.

Jedi.

A padawan and a knight, or master. Which one, he wasn’t sure it didn’t matter. He was going to get another Jedi kill, maybe even 2. If only he could be that lucky.

Within seconds, the void was filled with a laser light show. Red and blue left a dangerous, constantly shifting maze for him to navigate. He darted through the narrow passageways to unleash his fury on the hapless clones. An ever-growing kill count skyrocketed in his mind. Bombers, starfighters, and transport ships fell before his canons.

A swift-moving blur caught his attention. It danced around the battlefield, shooting down droids left and right. The distinct design told him what his senses already knew. A Jedi Interceptor. The Jedi hadn’t noticed him, yet.

Anakin would show them the severity of that mistake.

He maneuvered behind the oblivious Jedi and locked onto their ship. The volley flew towards the engines, only to miss as the interceptor darted out of the way.

Anakin did not relent. He stayed close on the Jedi’s tail. Whoever they were, they could fly. But they weren’t better than him.

Anakin tapped into the force to help guide his aim.

A thrill passed through him as his lasers found their mark. At one point in his life he had been so sure that it was impossible to kill a Jedi. A ball of fire engulfed the interceptor as it spiraled down and collided with the flagship. Now, he’d cleansed the galaxy of yet another of their kind.

The Force rippled. It wasn’t hard to identify the source of the pain and anguish.

So, it had been the master after all.

A message came through his communicator. A droid’s grating voice filled his ears. “Sir, they’ve destroyed our shields, we won’t be able to hold out much longer.”

Frustration coursed through Anakin. What were these droids even good for? His kill count was still growing, but the sheer number of clones was too much. He could have laughed at the irony. So much for always winning through numbers.

Some measure of relief came when he saw his master’s ship, giving the clones nothing but retribution.

Reinvigorated, he went back to picking their fighters off one by one. The void was littered by debris, some still smoldering on the inside. Fragments of droids, and lifeless clones bodies dotted his vision. Through the gray he could see the fighters in formation, the Republic symbols still out bright and clear on their sides.

At their front was another interceptor. The padawan was taking a big risk, no doubt against whatever arrogant puffery that their master had spewed. That seemed like the opposite of patience.

It was obvious that no run was needed, their destroyer wasn’t going to last much longer.

That reckless move was going to cost them.

Anakin rounded upon them, signaling whatever droid fighters that remained to do the same. Starting with the tail, the bombers were picked off one by one, until only their leaders remained. The fear was palpable coming from the padawan’s ship.

_‘Too young for the battlefield.’_ Anakin scolded in his mind. Though, hadn’t he been younger when he’d started to kill? It was hard to tell. He couldn’t see the padawan to guess their age.

His hesitation was just enough for the padawan to maneuver out of his sight. Anakin lost his chance to pursue when they retreated back to the flagship. That was cowardly, but smart. A child had no place here. ‘That child is leading a fleet that is going to win this fight.’ Half a dozen plans filled his head. All of them were dangerous, and likely to get him killed, but it would get them victory.

Ventress’ voice cut through his focus. “Before you get yourself killed,” she knew him too well. “We need to protect the base. All we have to do is hold out a bit longer.”

Anakin scowled. What did that mean? Was there something that he didn’t know? Some kind of weapon that they were hiding? Surely Ventress would have told him about something like that, if it existed.

The thoughts were ripped from his mind as he rolled out of the way of oncoming missiles. He unleashed his fury on the close foolish enough to attack him.

Another stream of curses escaped him as he chased a few clones away from the cruiser. The damage they’d done showed on the torn hull. Just a few more attacks would destroy it. None had been able to land on the surface, for now.

Then, he watched a ship come out of hyperspace. The distinctive design of a CIS destroyer gave him satisfaction. It only grew as a second, then a third, and a fourth joined it.

A hauntingly familiar voice came over the com, “It looks like we’ve arrived just in time. You know how I enjoy a good party, Ventress.”


End file.
